,
Dr. Cairn. Did he send me to you because he thought--in a word, are
you a mental specialist?"

"I am not. Sir Elwin has no doubts respecting your brain, Lord
Lashmore. He has sent you here because I have made some study of what
I may term psychical ailments. There is a chapter in your family
history"--he fixed his searching gaze upon the other's face--"which
latterly has been occupying your mind?"

At that, Lashmore started in good earnest.

"To what do you refer?"

"Lord Lashmore, you have come to me for advice. A rare
ailment--happily very rare in England--has assailed you. Circumstances
have been in your favour thus far, but a recurrence is to be
anticipated at any time. Be good enough to look upon me as a
specialist, and give me all your confidence."

Lashmore cleared his throat.

"What do you wish to know, Dr. Cairn?" he asked, with a queer
intermingling of respect and hauteur in his tones.

"I wish to know about Mirza, wife of the third Baron Lashmore."

Lord Lashmore took a stride forward. His large hands clenched, and his
eyes were blazing.

"What do you know about her?"

Surprise was in his voice, and anger.

"I have seen her portrait in Dhoon Castle; you were not in residence
at the time. Mirza, Lady Lashmore, was evidently a very beautiful
woman. What was the date of the marriage?"

"1615."

"The third Baron brought her to England from?--"

"Poland."

"She was a Pole?"

"A Polish Jewess."

"There was no issue of the marriage, but the Baron outlived her and
married again?"

Lord Lashmore shifted his feet nervously, and gnawed his finger-nails.

"There _was_ issue of the marriage," he snapped. "She was--my
ancestress."

"Ah!" Dr. Cairn's grey eyes lighted up momentarily. "We get to the
facts! Why was this birth kept secret?"

"Dhoon Castle has kept many secrets!" It was a grim noble of the
Middle Ages who was speaking. "For a Lashmore, there was no difficulty
in suppressing the facts, arranging a hasty second marriage and
representing the boy as the child of the later union. Had the second
marriage proved fruitful, this had been unnecessary; but an heir to
Dhoon was--essential."

"I see. Had the second marriage proved fruitful, the child of Mirza
would have been--what shall we say?--smothered?"

"Damn it! What do you mean?"

"He was the rightful heir."

"Dr. Cairn," said Lashmore slowly, "you are probing an open wound. The
fourth Baron Lashmore represents what the world ca